An Indecent Death Read online

  He stooped to scoop up Will’s morning deposit and thought about the day ahead. Lori Singh had been given the task last night of revisiting the nightclubs and pubs which Sarah Noonan had been known to frequent. She would have had a late night. Since she hadn’t called, Drumm could assume she hadn’t learned anything interesting. Not that he’d expected much anyway.

  The two of them had wasted a couple of hours knocking on the neighbours’ doors in Sarah Noonan’s building, hoping that someone would have seen something, or heard something, that maybe someone had been missed in the initial canvass. They had learned nothing. It was almost unbelievable that a man could have gotten a body out of the building unnoticed, but that appeared to be what had happened.

  He and Will turned a corner and then Drumm waited while the dog went through his normal sniffing routine at his favourite spot. It was the same most mornings, but sometimes Will would surprise him. With Shelties you never knew. They were intelligent dogs but occasionally would do incredibly dumb things. Like not going to the bathroom until they were told. You would think that after twelve hours of holding it, Will might know he had to go. But no, sometimes he had to be reminded. Not today, though. Will lifted his leg as usual and watered near the post, just as he normally did.. “Good boy, Will.” Drumm bent and ruffled the dog’s head.

  Today he would revisit Elmdale Elementary and look around some more. There were several staff there who needed to be interviewed again. He and Emily would be meeting for a picnic lunch. The thought of that brought a sudden smile to his face, surprising a passing woman whom Drumm didn’t even notice. And there were follow-up questions to ask of Greg Parent. Plus a full report from Lori Singh and the afternoon conference with Mark Chappell. And maybe a complete stranger would call in with a tip, saying he saw a short, dark man carrying a long bundle over his shoulder in Sarah Noonan’s apartment building. There had been plenty of tips called in already, it was just that they had all been useless.

  He and Will turned the final corner and headed for home. Drumm was anxious to get going now and he was hurrying. It would be a busy day.

  Principal Shaughnessy was as welcoming as he had been before, although perhaps a little surprised to see the two detectives. Drumm hadn’t told him that he and Wesson would show up today, wanting to see how the staff would react. Shaughnessy didn’t seem to mind, even though Drumm was sure it would mean disruptions to the principal’s day. The three of them were walking down the hallway towards Sarah Noonan’s seventh-grade classroom. It was about eight-thirty and the school was coming to life, although there were few students around as of yet.

  The classroom door was open and the lights were on but the teacher wasn’t there. The school district had replaced Sarah with an older woman, taken from the substitute list. He had no particular motive in mind when looking at the room. Drumm just felt compelled to go there for some reason. He stood inside gazing at a normal seventh-grade class with its dusty shelves, rows of desks and student writing on the walls and wondered how much of the former occupant was still present. The other two men waited in the doorway with curious looks on their faces.

  When Drumm came out again, a small boy was hanging up his coat and bag on a hook outside the class. Drumm recognized him as Shawn… …he couldn’t remember the last name. This was the boy who had been drawing obscene pictures and leaving them for the girls in the room to find. He had been questioned but he was clearly not involved in his teacher’s death at all.

  “How’s Mr. Hartford today?” Shaughnessy had his smiling principal face on, Drumm could see, and already he was perspiring profusely.

  “Good.” Shawn wasn’t much of a talker, Drumm had discovered. In truth he seemed to be a weasel, the kind of kid who looked at the floor or over your shoulder when addressed. You couldn’t trust that kind an inch. Drumm dismissed Shawn Hartford from his mind.

  “Let’s move on.” The three men continued walking. “I want to see Pepin’s room again.” Drumm wondered if they would find the custodian asleep in the sink once more.

  Pepin wasn’t asleep – he wasn’t in the room at all – but they could hear his voice from over in the other hallway.

  Drumm asked the principal, “What’s in the desk and filing cabinet, Mr. Shaughnessy? I mean, I can understand a teacher needing them but why a janitor?”

  Shaughnessy looked surprised. “I’m not sure, actually. I suppose he has paperwork to do, reports to file. I don’t have much to do with the custodians. I know he keeps some lost and found stuff there, and he’ll likely have a few balls that he gives out to the boys. Tennis balls, mostly, that have gone up on the roof. Why?”

  “I want you to go through them for me, see what’s in there. Can you do that? If he’s not here?”

  “You want me to search through his filing cabinet and desk? Why? Why don’t you do it yourself?”

  “Because I don’t have a warrant, Mr. Shaughnessy. We can’t search anybody’s filing cabinets or lockers or desks here without a warrant, and for that we need probable cause. Which we do not yet have. So if I found anything incriminating, it wouldn’t be admissible as evidence. But you can look through it, and then we’ll know what he’s got in there. I’m going to send Detective Wesson away with him to check out the parking lot where Sarah Noonan parked her car.” At a nod from Drumm, Karl Wesson went to take the custodian outside. Karl was looking rough today, Drumm noticed, like he hadn’t been getting enough sleep.

  “But why look at all, Detective? Why Pierre?”

  “Because some of your female teachers think your Mr. Pepin has a strange, possibly even perverted side to his nature. They think he likes to hang around the washrooms and change room and maybe catch a peek. If that’s true, then I wondered what else he might be up to. Probably nothing but let’s find out, shall we? Please be quick, Karl can’t keep him out there all day.”

  The filing cabinet had a lock but the key was in it and the top drawer was open anyway. The principal stepped forward, treating Drumm to a side view of his bulging stomach, and opened the filing cabinet drawers one by one, with Drumm, having closed the door, standing behind him. The top three were just files, and Drumm made sure there was nothing else at the back. It was just reports, blank forms, safety information and other routine stuff. The bottom drawer contained some worn tennis balls, a skipping rope, a couple of Frisbees and some fairly clean children’s gym clothing. Drumm could see a pair of shorts and three Elmdale Eagles tee-shirts.

  “Alright?” asked Jim Shaughnessy.

  Drumm nodded. “And the desk?” The drawers were all closed.

  The principal tugged on the handle of the top one but it refused to open. “Locked,” said Shaughnessy. He looked at Drumm. “I can do something about that if you like.”

  Drumm nodded. “Hurry then.”

  Shaughnessy picked up a paper clip from a holder on the desk, bent it, got down on his knees and inserted it in the keyhole. He fiddled for a minute and then the drawer opened. “These are the cheapest desks, for God’s sake.” There was nothing remarkable in the small top drawer, a few coins and a couple of cans of spray paint, other odds and ends. “Wouldn’t want the kids getting their hands on this paint,” Shaughnessy said. “Pierre’s door is usually open and the kids are often sent here to get stuff for cleaning up messes.” He gestured at the mops and buckets.

  The bottom drawer was larger and proved to be full of clothing. There was a difference, though. This was more intimate apparel. As the principal turned the stuff over, Drumm could see a camisole, a pair of panties, a bra, some pantyhose and a stocking. It was black and it appeared to be silk.

  Drumm looked at Shaughnessy. “Interesting stuff for a janitor to have, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I’m sure there’s a good explanation, Detective,” said Shaughnessy, but he didn’t sound convincing to Drumm.

  “Lock it all up again, sir, if you please,” Drumm said. “And let’s go find Mr. Pepin.”

  Shaughnessy did as Drumm had asked, and got back to his feet
with some difficulty. He was breathing hard as he brushed off his pants. “Got to lose some weight,” he said. “Shouldn’t be out of breath doing a little thing like that.”

  They met Wesson and the custodian coming down the hall, back from the staff parking lot. “Mr. Pepin, we’d like you to show us what’s in your filing cabinet, please.”

  Pepin looked surprised. “Me? My filing cabinet? Why?”

  “Just do it please, sir. Unless you have something to hide?” Drumm was staring at him, as one might look at a particularly nasty insect.

  “Me? No.” He opened the top drawer and stepped aside so they could see in. “Just paper stuff.” He did the same with the other drawers.

  “Now the desk, please, Mr. Pepin. I’m sure you want to co-operate with a police investigation, don’t you?” Drumm was standing with arms folded, leaning back against the wall. Karl Wesson was in the doorway, watching his boss with interest. Shaughnessy was looking at his custodian, his mouth slightly open.

  “My desk? Why you want to look in dere?” As Drumm said nothing and just continued to stare, Pepin shrugged and opened the desk drawer with a small key from a huge ring he had attached to his pants.

  “Open the bottom one, please, sir. What’s in there?”

  “Just some more lost and found clothes, dat’s all.”

  Drumm leaned forward and hooked his pen under the white camisole that was on top of the pile, lifting it into view of Wesson and the others. “Where did you get this, sir?”

  “Dat?” Pepin was puzzled. “I found dat in da change room.”

  “And this?” Drumm was now holding up the black stocking.

  Pepin looked puzzled now. “I don’t know how dat got dere. I’ve never seen dat before, me.” He scratched his head.

  “Oh, I think you have, Mr. Pepin.” Drumm turned to Shaughnessy. “You’re going to need another custodian for today. We will be borrowing your Mr. Pepin here for a while.” Drumm then said to the custodian, “We need you to come to the station for some questions, Mr. Pepin.”

  Pepin turned to the principal. “Jim?”

  Shaughnessy said, “Better go with them, Pierre. I’m sure it’s all a mistake but it’s best to get it sorted out.”

  Wesson put his large hand on Pierre’s shoulder. “Please come with me, sir.”

  Bill Deans watched out his window as Pierre Pepin walked out of the school between Detectives Drumm and Wesson. The custodian didn’t look too happy. Surely the cops didn’t think a sixty-year-old man had killed a sexy thing like Sarah Noonan? Pierre Pepin? Deans would have to ask Shaughnessy what that was all about. He had a good relationship with his principal. He guessed he liked him okay but he was a bit hard to know. You could get so far with Jim Shaughnessy and no further.

  Deans thought for the hundredth time about his talk with Drumm the other day. He thought he had been doing alright until that question came out of the blue about sex with Sarah in the storage room. Jesus, that had shaken him up. How did they know about that anyway? Despite himself, he got a little grin remembering the circumstances. It had been after school one night and they had bumped into each other. She had finished a team basketball practice; he was running around looking for something and had come across her in the hall. She was wearing tight shorts and a white tee-shirt. The shorts were so snug on her that they were practically indecent, the shirt the same, something that would have been more appropriate on a Hooters girl. Any man would have been attracted to such a sight.

  They had walked down the hall a bit and she had followed him, quite naturally he thought, into the stores room. She had closed the door behind them and eased right up to him, asking him to check out a stain on her shirt. Or some such nonsense. He couldn’t remember. She was looking at him with a “do me” expression, and he had obliged. Before he knew it, his hands were pushing up her shirt and he was running his hands all over her breasts. She was saying something or other and he was squeezing her ass through those oh-so-tight shorts, and then pushing them down, and she was moaning. And then he was frantically unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down, and then he was in her and it was over in no time. They were both panting and he had no idea how it was for her, but he felt wonderful.

  He thought she had enjoyed it. He thought she probably always enjoyed it. Deans had never met a nymphomaniac but he thought maybe Sarah was as close as he might ever get. She had adjusted her clothing, given him a little kiss and left. The next day she had given him a mischievous little grin but basically ignored him, and he didn’t know what to make of that.

  But how did the police know about it? Should he tell them about it? He was still thinking about it as he watched the police drive away with Pierre Pepin.

  Pepin looked unhappy as he squirmed in the interview room. Drumm and Wesson faced him with Lori Singh looking on through the one-way glass.

  “Where did you get the stocking from?” Karl asked.

  “I tell you a hundred times already, I never see it before.” Pepin was sweating, his unshaven face showing every one of his sixty-one years.

  “Then what was it doing in your desk?” The stocking had been bagged and sent to the lab for analysis. Both Wesson and Drumm thought it was the mate for the one in Sarah Noonan’s drawer.

  “I tell you already, I don’t know!”

  Wesson went on. “The desk was locked and you have the key. So you must have put it there.”

  “Not me! I never see it before!”

  “What about the other things? The women’s underwear? You ever see them before, Pierre? The bra, Pierre? The panties, Pierre? The camisole, Pierre?” Wesson banged out the questions rapidly, punctuating each one with a slap of his hand on the table.

  “I tell you already, dose are t’ings I find in girl’s change room. I put in desk because dey are so personal. I don’t want everyone looking at dem. I don’t do anyt’ing wrong, me!”

  Drumm got up and left the room and went to stand beside Lori Singh. The two of them watched as Wesson continued. “What do you think, Lori?”

  Lori was tired already, and she was sick of this Pepin interview. And once again, she was stuck outside while the two men did the interviewing. “He’s sticking to his story at least. Hasn’t changed it a bit. Maybe he’s telling the truth?”

  Drumm rubbed his chin. “Could be. He sounds convincing. Let’s step it up a notch.” He re-entered the room and stood over the janitor, looking down at him.

  “Pierre, you like to peek at the women, hmmm? Like to stand outside the women’s bathroom and look inside, right?”

  “What?” Pepin stared at Drumm.

  Drumm continued. “You enjoy hanging around the change room too, don’t you? Maybe get a look at the ladies changing? You ever see Sarah changing? That would be something worth seeing, right? She was sexy as hell, right, Pierre?”

  Pepin looked from Drumm to Wesson and back again. “What? No! I never do dose t’ings!”

  “Sure you did, Pierre. Sarah saw you. So did some of the other female teachers.”

  “No! Dey are lying – I never do dat!”

  “You know what I think, Pierre? I think you liked looking at the ladies at school. You liked looking at Sarah. So you hung around places where you weren’t supposed to be, hoping to get a look at them changing their tops or doing up their pants. I think you get off on seeing the lady teachers like that.”

  “No!”

  “And when you could, you’d steal some of their clothing. Maybe run your hands all over it, Pierre? Sniff it? That’s Sarah’s clothing, isn’t it, Pierre? You took it from her, and you imagined her wearing it, and you taking it off her. Right, Pierre?”

  “No!”

  “And she caught you at it, and she threatened to go to the principal. So you went over to her place and you strangled her. But first you were going to have sex with her, right, Pierre? So you slipped her the drug. Because she was so hot. Even an old guy like you wanted her.”

  Pepin shook his head; he looked bewildered. “Drug? What drug? I
don’t know what you’re talking about! None of dat is true. I don’t do dose t’ings. I tell you already!” He looked around wildly. “I want a lawyer! I’m not saying anyt’ing else.”

  “Suit yourself, Pierre.” Drumm signaled to Wesson and the two of them left the room.

  Lori Singh said, “We’re going to have to let him go. We’ve got nothing.”

  Drumm sighed. “I know. What do you think, Karl?”

  Wesson nodded his head. “The clothing isn’t even Sarah’s size. It’s not her stuff, except maybe for the stocking. And why would he kill her with it and then bring it to school where anyone could find it? Doesn’t add up.”

  “Well, he’s not the sharpest pencil in the box,” said Drumm. “Maybe he thought it would fit in with the other stuff. But I agree, we’re going to have to release him. For now.”

  “In the end, every one of the nightclubs and bars remembered Sarah Noonan.” Wesson and Drumm sat in Drumm’s office listening to Lori Singh’s account of her late evening the day before. “She was a frequent flier, usually showing up alone, sometimes with a female friend. One of the bars remembered her being with Kevin Callaghan one night. After Dark, the club over on Gould Street, remembered her going home with a guy one time. No details. A couple of the male staff commented on her appearance and dress. Here’s an exact quote, ‘She was a fox – dressed in a slutty little dress’.” Singh looked up. “Sorry, that’s about all I could get.”